We have been conducting our school, a residential year nine
leadership school, for 12 years now. As the founding principal, I have been in
the privileged position of being able to observe so many changes and evolutions
as we grew into one of the largest year-nine only schools in Australia. Some
may question that bold claim of size, but the numbers stack up this way, with
our 135 students in three campuses living with us 24/7 for 63 days at a time,
with four new intakes a year. Every term we have a new intake of students, boys
and girls, from most of the 270 or so government education secondary colleges
across Victoria.
This has provided us with rich background and observation on
an enormous cross-section of both the Victorian socio-economic and educational
landscape. Far from an ivory tower view, it has enabled us to get down and
dirty with so many students, families and schools and really understand the
issues in contemporary education. But the most amazing thing is the consistency
in outcomes and feedback from all participants and their families and schools.
They want more: every child in our education system needs to have this
experience or something like it. But what is that “experience” that they all
seem to be clamouring for?
It has taken a long time for me to realise the clear and
underlying reality of what was happening. In the early days of our operation,
we used to deflect the many naysayers and antagonists with details of the
excellent and bespoke year nine curriculum. We would discuss at length the
social enterprise and community-learning project embedded into our curriculum,
still considered cutting edge and amazingly engaging for year nine students.
Those detractors would laugh haughtily and patronisingly suggesting “you don’t
need to go to the hills to do that sort of stuff”, and they are right. It can
all happen in schools right there in the ‘burbs: and it doesn’t as a general
rule. It does at our school.
So we pursued research and sought to really understand what
it was that made students both want to go to school with us (this IS year nine,
remember, the most disinterested year group), what made our program create such
strong learning and social bonds and why these long-term outcomes kept
reappearing. In our research and feedback, students, families and home-schools
alike would refer to the “changed student”, the “transformation” of an
individual. Parents would ascribe adult-like behaviours to their children upon
return from our program and moreover, the behaviours more often than not were
retained: they stuck like mud. Schools would often talk about the focus a
student had returned with, the drive, the goal setting and aspiration now
present. True, most students have reintegration challenges but so do we all
after a similar salient and life-changing experience. Teenagers are just not as
well equipped emotionally, nor are schools structured such that facilitating
such a change can happen without a certain need to exhibit that wonderful
teenage emotional response.
The process for many teenagers in coping with such stressful
events is one of following a cycle of sad-mad-bad: sad is the emotion felt about
the end of a salient experience. Mad is the teenage coping strategy and bad is
the behaviour we witness. Luckily it passes! And when it does, and it will, good
things really do happen!
We sought to understand the changes and outcomes that were
expressed in the words so often used: transformation.
The term is often used in contemporary literature about leadership, and I would
suggest ill-advisedly and in an uninformed way. My research has taken me to
Canada and to first-nation’s people, embedding me in leadership retreats in the
Rockies and undertaking courses to understand the concept and construct of
“transformation”, especially when it is applied to adolescent learning. I have
visited schools and centres across Nth America with the support of a Churchill
Fellowship. My understanding is clearer, but not totally transparent!
At age 14 or 15, adolescents are going through the time of
greatest growth, change and cognitive development in their lives. Our
paediatric and adolescent psychologist are better able to describe these, but
we all witness the behaviours! They are going through a series of emotional, neurological,
cognitive and physical upheavals and our school systems can only at best pay
lip service to these most significant waypoints in the human life. I do not
intend to suggest that traditional cultures have the complete answer, but
somewhere in our pre-industrial era societies, the notion of “it takes a
village to raise a child” rang true, and teenagers were raised by the village
and given access to what we now realise is a rite of passage to adult-life. We
just do not, at all, do that in schools today. Not systemically anyway. We need
to recreate the village and the rite.
As a result of this apparent disregard of the developmental
needs of teenagers, what we do is wring our hands in despair at the naughty and
disruptive behaviour of our teenagers and seek to apply more standardised
testing to understand the success of our schools against national standards.
Then we punish those schools and do diagnostic tests on the schools that do not
come up to standard. And we medicate and sedate those students who display
“abnormal” behaviour or even threaten to become over excited and over
stimulated.
We need to fundamentally change the way we do education to
and with adolescents. We need to create a teaching and learning approach and
use a curriculum content that addresses these developmental needs of teens. If
we do that, student outcomes will improve. Attendance will improve, retention
will improve. Literacy and numeracy will improve. Teacher retention will
improve. We talk about the need to do things better and have improved student
outcomes: it is not happening with a system driven by standardised testing.
Everyone wants schools to get better and student outcomes to improve. Imagine
if it was suggested that schools should get worse! It needs to be driven by a
system underwritten by an understanding of the needs of adolescents.
It would be my humble opinion that if we changed this one
aspect of education, the middle-years, and used a more informed and more
holistic way to create the content and pedagogy, we would have many beneficial
spin-offs with early intervention of potential youth-at-risk issues as well.
We need in education to recreate the adolescent rite of
passage and provide a meaningful way for young people to transition into
adulthood in a complex and fast moving world. We have a model of how we can
achieve this in Victorian Education, one of the most progressive systems in the
world. The model is the School for Student Leadership. Our challenge is to help
our leaders and policy makers to get behind this and support the idea becoming
ubiquitous.
Mark Reeves.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteHi Mark.
ReplyDeleteJust wanted to let you know there is someone "out there" reading your blog. Thanks for your wonderful insights!
I'm doing research on transformative sustainability learning. Two of the student participants in my research attended your Alpine School campus. They spoke of their experience in euphoric terms, so I wanted to do a bit of research into it - your incredible and pioneering school and pedagogy.
Your research sounds terrific. I realise this is probably a ridiculous question (and one I loathe other people asking me!) but when do you think your thesis will be completed?
I'm also intrigued as to why the Monash Uni research into your school is through the lens of computers and ICT? When so many other amazing processes, ideas could be focussed on...?
Thanks for your Great Work. Stay strong (And warm!)
Peace
Alicia